


Look To The Sky

by BriannaNicole



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Grief, M/M, Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 13:33:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14165943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriannaNicole/pseuds/BriannaNicole
Summary: Rick's mother told him something long ago that he never quite understood. In losing someone dear to him, he not only remembers her words-he understands it in the worst way.





	Look To The Sky

Rick's head has been in the past a lot today, remembering. Remembering tough times with lighter tones. If that is how it should be named. Times where food and shelter were scarce but hope was winning out, always putting up its best fight. And winning. Bloodied knuckles and all, it was winning, surviving in each heart he held dear to him.

Now, half of those hearts have been stilled, chilled, and lost somewhere he cannot follow. Not yet, anyway. Rick remembers a time, ages ago, it seems when he was just a naive boy. He would sit on top of his mother's lap as she soothed away the day's injuries from where he'd fallen and hurt himself, playing roughly as boys his age then would. She'd place medicine on his cuts if needed and rock him into a calmness he hasn't felt much since then. Her long, dark hair would brush against his face as she shushed and loved him and sometimes she would whisper in his ear, her voice like silk.

"Look to the sky, my love, the tears will come."

Rick didn't understand her wisdom when he was young, didn't bother trying to understand it either as he got older. He just figured it was mother talk, advice he would likely never use.

But now, Rick knows he understands his mother's words. He now recognizes the sorrow in the light lilt of her voice. He remembers by then his father had died and that sadness in her never wavered nor vanished. He understands now because he's kneeling down beside his still son with Daryl at his side wondering how the hell he's supposed to push past this. 

Looking over to his partner, he realizes he hasn't seen tears in those narrowed blue eyes since Merle died. Not when he was a prisoner of the Saviors, not when Negan was taunting him with that fucking bat, not when he was shot in the shoulder. No, his lover is not one for tears but this has the tears escaping from his eyes laced with an anguish Rick knows by hard. 

He watches Daryl comb shaken fingers through Carl's wet hair, frowning like he can't believe this is real. Daryl is looking down at Rick's child like he's lost a son as well and really, he has. Carl accepted the relationship between his father and Daryl, he openly acknowledged it and welcomed the happiness it brought both of them. Daryl and Carl had grown so close Rick could see parts of Daryl in Carl and it filled him with endless pride. 

That will be a thing of the past from now on and Rick simply can't bare it. His own body is worn and bruised, so very tired and torn, his heart in no better shape and it never will be again. Rick leans forward, pressing his sweaty forehead to his son's chest and lets himself shatter. 

Why the hell not? Why be strong and vengeful now? Why should he shove his group into what could be another hopeless situation? Why should he push them into more seemingly worthless action when there's a symphony of breaking hearts around him? All of that can wait and it will come, but for now, Rick just needs a damn minute to be with his son. The one person he went to war for and somehow lost. 

Rick lets himself mourn, lets himself scream silently into his son's chest and welcomes the strong, muscled arm wrapping itself around him. In another world that would make him feel better but nothing can alleviate this type of pain, this soul rendering, this heavy feeling of doom and damnation. 

They all need a fucking moment and rushing off to no fucking where isn't going to help right now. Hell, the dead staying dead wouldn't even help. Not when the home they all worked so damn hard for, fought so hard for is being bombed and desecrated. Just when Rick doesn't think he could possibly hold any more grief the helplessness rudely makes space for itself. 

Daryl begins rocking Rick, pressing his mouth to Rick's sweaty curls and his mother's voice is in his head once more. Rick understands what she meant. For those who believe, even in this impossible world, that those who leave us are somewhere above us then all you have to do is look up to them. Picture them, remember the happiness they brought you. The love you had for them, love they always returned genuinely. The years of closeness and trust. Remember this, only this, and don't let anything or anyone take that away from you. 

Rick will never forget. He looks to the sky even if he's only looking at a cold, dark tunnel and lets the tears come.

And come...  
And come...


End file.
